The Girl In Between series: Books 1-4

by Laekan Zea Kemp

  “Shay…we’ll find Calvin.”

  “He’s dead,” she snapped. “I can collect his bones, maybe even bury him. But I can’t bring him back. I can’t bring him back to me.”

  She clutched the sink. I heard a soft patter against the tin bottom. Shay didn’t just grieve because she’d lost Calvin she grieved because she’d never really had him at all. Not in the real world. Not in the way I had Bryn. The shadows had slipped into his dreams long before Shay had arrived, turning his memories into a manic mess she couldn’t untangle. She loved him because it was what she was made for but she hadn’t known him except for his worst fears. And this was hers. Losing him before she’d even had a chance to save him. Failing before she’d even had a chance to try.

  Dani and Celia almost came around to comfort her but I pulled them away before they burned themselves. Shay was glowing, her skin just as red as her last memory of Calvin.

  “You…” Shay stared at Celia. “You can find things, can’t you?”

  Celia’s lips parted. She paused.

  “Please.” Shay cooled, taking Celia’s hands. “Could you find him?”

  Celia let go, stung by Shay’s desperation instead. She looked like she’d just seen a ghost. “I can…try.” She looked to Dani. “I need a needle and thread. Left of the sink, bottom drawer.”

  Celia led Shay to the dining room. A spontaneous flame floated up from each candle that lined the walls as the double doors slid closed, Dani barely slipping in behind them with the needle and thread.

  Felix and Adham came stomping down the stairs, flanking Sanders on either side.

  He struggled, cursing. “You can’t keep us here like prisoners. Let go of me!”

  Felix and Adham exchanged a look before doing just that. Sanders stumbled, still woozy from Bryn’s touch. He flapped his arms before tumbling to the bottom of the stairs.

  I stood over him, reached out a hand. “Looks like you could use some help.”

  He swatted my hand away. “Help? Yeah, right. I’m not touching you or anyone else.” He swayed, leaning against the wall as he got to his feet.

  I backed away. “Suit yourself.”

  Sanders fidgeted, scowling at every face in the room. He turned in a slow circle, on guard, waiting for one of us to lunge for him again. When no one did he took a step toward the front door, braced for a burning hand, for someone to hurl him to the ground. I crossed my arms, trying not to smile.

  He straightened. “This is some kind of trap…”

  I shook my head. “The door’s right there.”

  “Like you’re just going to let me walk out of here.”

  “It’s up to you,” I said. “Either we can do this the easy way and you can walk out that door on your own and promise not to tell anyone about what happened here. Or we can do this the hard way and make sure you won’t.”

  Cole broadened his shoulders, relishing the fact that he was the muscle this time. I knew he couldn’t wait to lay his hands on Sanders and erase the memory of him being reunited with his body. But if he did…if Cole touched him that wasn’t all he would see. He’d see the struggle, the lies. The truth. And then he’d realize it was only a matter of time before he was next.

  Cole’s memory-altering abilities weren’t the only reason we’d sent him on a supply run. I wasn’t sure how he’d react once he found out his dreams were only temporary. I wasn’t sure how Adham would react either. Cole’s dreams were the only reason for their connection. Without them, Cole could go right back to avoiding Adham, hating him even. But I knew how Adham felt and I knew he would never be able to do either.

  Adham escorted Eric down the stairs next.

  Eric looked at Sanders. “He won’t say anything.”

  Sanders turned. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Saving your ass, you idiot.”

  Sanders shook his head. “They got to you. Dude, you can’t—”

  “Say a word.” Eric faced me, my heart racing. “We won’t.” He turned back to Sanders. “They saved your life. They saved both our lives.”

  Sanders’ face fell. “They took it.”

  The word it piqued Cole’s senses. He shot Adham a look but Adham’s face was cool and unconcerned. Cole took a breath and so did I.

  “And if you try to tell anyone about what happened…about what you dreamed about…they’ll lock you away in an insane asylum,” Eric added. “They’ll think you’re crazy.”

  “I’m not—”

  “It won’t matter. How long have you been missing?”

  “Months…”

  “And if you suddenly reappear with some story about being kidnapped and having your—”

  No. Don’t say it.

  “Okay, I get it.” Sanders wrung his hands and I knew he was imagining wringing my neck. “I won’t say a word.”

  I sighed, my pulse falling back to normal. I met Sanders’ eyes, my own striking hot. “And you’re going to convince the rest of the Dreamers to do the same.”

  They descended the stairs, hanging on each other, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Rafael and Felix handed out coats and other comforts while Adham and I tried to keep everyone calm. Some of them were still delirious, wondering if it was all a bad dream. I stopped every conversation short, Sanders and Eric keeping the group focused on trying to remember their old identities.

  “They need more time,” Adham whispered over my shoulder.

  I turned to face him. “We don’t have more time.”

  He grimaced. “They’re traumatized. They need help.”

  “They’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

  “They’re alive but they’re not okay.”

  “What’s going to happen now?” one of the Dreamers asked.

  “You go home,” I said.

  Sanders scoffed but behind it there were tears. “Go home and what?”

  I gripped his shoulders. “And live, you idiot. You go home and you live because there are other bodies, other Dreamers upstairs who can’t.” I let go of him. “You go home and live.”

  “And our families?” Magda choked. “How am I supposed to explain why I just left them like that? They’re going to hate me.”

  “Tell them you screwed up.” Everyone stared at me, my throat burning. “Tell them you left because you were angry or sad or confused but that it was a mistake. A huge mistake that you wish you could take back and you’re sorry. Tell them you’re sorry you left and ask them if you can come back home.” I stared into the darkness at the top of the stairs. “They’ll forgive you. They’ll let you come home.”

  7

  Dani

  Celia cut the thread with her teeth, frown lines harsh as she fed it through the needle. “Your hand.”

  Shay reached out, Celia driving the needle into the thin bridge between her forefinger and thumb. My eyes watered at the first drop of blood but she didn’t even wince. It raced down the thread, dying it red. Shay clenched her fist and it was soaked.

  “One drop’s plenty,” Celia said. She sensed Shay’s impatience and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Just breathe. Try to picture him.”

  This time the pain was more than skin deep and Shay’s eyes were ringed red. Celia took the needle, threading it into the skin between her thumb and forefinger.

  “I need you to anchor us,” she said, handing the needle to me.

  It rolled in my palm, dotting the skin with their blood. “What do I—?”

  “Be still.”

  As soon as Celia said the word, the air was sucked out of the room, my ears popping. I couldn’t hear the rustle of Dreamers as they readied to leave or Felix’s chatter, his light laughter the only thing cutting through everyone’s fear. Except mine.

  I was grateful he was here but the last time we’d travelled together I’d tried to kill him. Without him I would have lost it a long time ago, especially now that Bryn was…not herself. I still didn’t feel like myself either but being around Felix made me feel less less like myself. I needed that r
ight now with my mom a thousand miles away and Bryn even farther. I needed Felix. And I was done pretending like I didn’t.

  I knew that was why Roman was letting him stay even if Roman didn’t. He wasn’t just letting Felix track down the Rogues to keep us “humans” busy. He was holding his friend hostage so that he wouldn’t have to be alone. I couldn’t look at Roman without seeing his heart, mangled and beating on the outside of his chest. It raced when Bryn was near and when she wasn’t…it stopped.

  I remembered that feeling. When the shadow was still inside me there hadn’t been room for anything else. Not my own thoughts or my memories or even my own pulse. When I’d closed my eyes I could almost see the cobwebs and the howling emptiness where my heart used to be.

  I felt for it now, my pulse racing. As if just thinking about the shadows would somehow summon them. I didn’t want to think about them. I didn’t want to remember. The way it had felt to hunt Bryn. The way it had felt to hurt Felix. I’d almost killed them both. Almost…almost…

  The word meant nothing, the fear in me trying to replace it with not yet. What if my fear was right? I imagined the black hole inside me again. It was an endless chasm, Felix at the top, his voice echoing down to me. But I was drowning, darkness filling my lungs every time I tried to call back.

  As afraid as I was of the shadows, I was afraid of love more. So much more. Besides my father’s death it was the only thing I’d never been able to control. When I met Felix, even though we were just eight years old, I could sense it as wild and alluring and unpredictable as a hummingbird and my heart made the sound of their wings every time I saw him.

  I watched Shay, eyes racing behind her closed lids. She looked both helpless and perfectly content with the fact. She looked in love and unafraid. All I wanted was to be just as fearless.

  “I see him.” Celia whispered the words in a voice I didn’t recognize.

  I shifted, part of me being drawn towards the door while another part…the part of me that was made from the same bone and blood as my mother, and her mother, and her mother, that didn’t just want me to stay. It wanted me to look.

  “Where?” Shay whispered back. She was shaking, ready to run to him.

  Celia sprinkled words in a rush, barely parting her lips. “Oak. Alder. Ash.” The words were slipping. “Woods. Iron.” She blinked, fighting to hold onto the vision. “Ferry.” She reached for my hand and then she closed my fist, the needle cutting into my skin. She opened her eyes. “Kilrush.”

  Everything burned and then I saw him too. My vision was spliced with Celia’s, one half of my mind following her route through the woods as a white mansion appeared in the distance while the other half moved down a beam of light, walls manifesting on either side until I realized I was in a hallway. I could hear Celia speaking more directions to Shay. Something about an Inn and a bathtub. But all I saw was white. And then that white blotted out my view of the mansion. I saw Calvin, pale, but breathing. He wasn’t dead or even dying. He was in a hospital, bound to the bed by restraints, staring at one of the walls. He looked afraid.

  The needle slid out of my skin, inch by inch until it felt like it was a mile long. The tip slipped free and my eyes snapped to Celia’s face. I was sitting in a chair, clutching both arms, rocking with ragged breaths.

  I scanned the room. “Where’s Shay?”

  But as soon as I said her name my vision was clouded again. I saw her running down the stretch of the terminal. I saw her fighting with frantic passengers and boarding a plane.

  I stilled. “How long?”

  Celia didn’t answer.

  I followed her with my eyes because the rest of me couldn’t move. “What’s happening?”

  Celia’s mouth trembled and she pinched her lips tight.

  “Celia—?” Her name came out of me thin and cracked. My throat burned with tears. What if the shadows were back? Controlling me again. Killing me again.

  “I’m sorry.” Her back was turned, the sorrow louder than the words.

  I searched every inch of myself, trying to sense some kind of poison. “For what?”

  Her voice was small. “I’m getting old, Dani, and I was losing sight…of everything.” She sighed, finally looking at me. “So I passed that sight to you.”

  8

  Bryn

  He’d never been so far away. In all his years of running, of disappearing and leaving me behind, he’d never been this far away.

  I stared into my father’s eyes until I couldn’t anymore, the emptiness setting off an earthquake, every wall inside me crumbling. I held his hand, searching for any sensation, any sign of him—a whisper, a memory, a dream. This was all one bad dream, my father’s body a nightmare like all the others. My nightmare. Because as much as I’d always hated him for leaving…every time he reappeared, every time he said he was sorry, I realized how much I loved him too.

  “I’m so—”

  “He can’t hear you.”

  I spun and then I froze. She stood before me. My doppelganger. My darkness.

  Anso’s daughter crept toward my father. “He swallowed the night. Can you feel it trying to swallow you too?” She traced a finger across my heart, the cold sting knocking me back. “He’s gone.” She shook her head, full of pity. “You’re close.”

  “Go away.” I recoiled, my thoughts trying to force her back into the void she’d come from.

  The last time she’d appeared I’d been drawn out of Celia’s house, desperate to end my own life. I’d stood on those train tracks, the vibrations climbing me as the train tore closer. And then some future version of myself had taken my hand. She’d saved me. I’d saved me.

  But not from her. Anso’s daughter was still staring, her thoughts still trying to slither inside my head, her darkness trying to lure me back again. Anso had tried to destroy her because she was mad, her dreams too dangerous. But the chaos that came after her death was even more powerful, waking more than just the Dreamers. Now the things we dreamt about were waking too.

  She stood before me, unhinged and I felt myself unraveling too.

  “Leave,” I said. “Now.”

  She tsk’d. “I’m not out here, Bryn.” She leaned in close, her breaths forcing my own mouth open as she tried to climb inside. “I’m in there.”

  She disintegrated in a storm, the walls moaning, sheets fluttering as furniture skidded across the room. I rolled, landing in a tangle as my head struck the floor. The bags I’d packed ripped open and the contents scattered all around me: clothes, maps, newspaper clippings. My copy of Through the Looking-Glass.

  I stared at the embossed cover, glittering and gold, and suddenly it fell open. The pages splayed, fluttering and wild, and there…tucked between two chapters, between two folded pages, was a letter.

  I plucked it out, tracing the corners and folds. It bloomed beneath my stare, the pages unfolding until my father’s words stood upright in my open palms. He’d begged me to read them that day at my grandmother’s funeral and again just before the shadow had attacked him. He’d known something terrible was going to happen to both of us and now I was going to find out how.

  Eighteen years ago I had a dream. I stood on the bank of some celestial stream and found a deer tangled in the muddy brush. The next day I met your mother. She was seventeen, beautiful, and buzzed on wine coolers at the watermelon festival. I saw her sitting on the side of the bank and then she fell in. The water was only waist deep but the alcohol must have made it seem deeper because she flailed and screamed, her dress snagging on the sticks.

  I pulled her out and the moment we touched it was like two chain links locking in place. We were never soul mates but we were destined to be together. Because we were destined to be your parents. Your mother, because she was perfect, and me, because I wasn’t. Because I was a liar and a cheater and a runner. And when your mother’s aunt Celia found me in a rundown truck stop fifteen years ago and told me…convinced me of the curse we were all under that’s exactly what I did.

 
At first I ran out of guilt. I’d always had demons and the worse I was at being your father, the more they tormented me. The more I drank. The more I fought with myself. But I always missed you and every once in a while I’d head back in your direction, hoping to see you and your mother. But then Celia dragged me out of my own delusions. She said the demons that were haunting me weren’t of my own creation. They were real and they were looking for you. So even when I didn’t want to run anymore, I had to. I had to leave you.

  That doesn’t change the fact that I wasn’t there. That doesn’t change the fact that I hate myself. I know you always thought I only ever came back to see your mother because I was still in love with her. But the truth was I had to try harder with your mother. You were changing. After every birthday, after every night’s sleep I knew you were seeing more and more of the world Celia had warned me about. I knew eventually you would understand. But I also knew that you loved your mother more than anything and for that reason we would both have to keep all of this a secret from her. So I never told her why I left and since protecting you was my priority I never had the opportunity to show your mother just how sorry I was.

  I am sorry. I’m so sorry, Bryn. I’m so sorry that this has happened to you. I’m so sorry that I was weak and the shadows knew it. I’m sorry I let them in. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry that I let you believe I never loved you. I love you. I always have. Always.

  “Are you okay?”

  Dani’s voice startled me, the letter slipping to my lap.

  Fear took hold of her in an instant and she knelt. But up close her worry looked aged, as if the shadow’s grand exit had drudged everything to the surface. “I thought I heard a noise,” she said.

  I looked around the room, everything back in its place. The only thing that had moved was me. Dani watched me, uneasy. I wondered how long I’d been up here, if Anso’s daughter had somehow swallowed time and spit me out hours later. Maybe that was why Dani looked different too.